The scene
by QueenOfMischief13
Summary: Vampire Adam from Only lovers left alive


THE SCENE

I am swearing in my head by the time I rush into the small dark bar. Its half past 10 so the place is already pretty packed with drunk fans eager to hear live music from local bands on a Friday night. I'm lucky enough to find an empty table and take a sit, hoping I didn't miss much. One band is already taking down their set and the crowd is talking amongst themselves as music plays over the sound system to fill in the gaps. I fiddle with my phone to pass the time when a body slides into the booth and sits beside me. Half expecting it to be some smashed asshole, I glare at him only to be pleasantly surprised that it's Adam. His face is unreadable as ever but he slides a beer across the table towards me so I figure he can't be too mad at me.

"I didn't think you were coming." His voice is low and soft, with the barest hint of disapproval clinging to that wonderful accent of his.

I smile an apology and take the beer. "Sorry. Did I miss you play?"

"No," he says as he wraps his arm around my shoulders. "I'll take the stage after this band."

"Great." I try my best to casually sneak a peek at the brooding man next to me without being caught. Now that I have him I don't want him to leave just yet. "Will you keep me company for while?"

"Of course."

He is so unbelievably attractive. I can't quite stop myself from smiling into my beer as I notice his tight leather pants. The large hand on my shoulder squeezes me and I hold my breath when I look up into his blue eyes. The bastard is smirking at my expense.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing," I tease, grinning, and turn my eyes to the stage. The band is done setting up and the lights are dimming in the bar. The music shuts off and band starts to perform. It's a slow start but soon enough people are swaying to the hypnotic beat of the bass. While I enjoy it, I know Adam must think this type of music is trite and boring. His long sigh to tale-tell enough but I grin, drink my beer, and tap my feet to the rhythm while Adam massages my shoulder.

The second song is slower, the melody is almost sensual, and I close my eyes, enjoying the sound as well as the quiet man who is rubbing the back of my neck now, his long fingers encircling my throat and working away the tension of the day. I moan softly, caught up in the reverberating music as much as Adam himself. It's hard not to be riveted by this charismatic person.

In the shadows of the bar, with the crowd focused on the stage, no one sees Adam slip a hand between my legs. My breath catches in my throat as he moves closer to me. He nuzzles my neck tenderly, biting ever so carefully, as I slowly part my legs. It's hard to act innocent when a vampire's hand is under my skirt, his fingers idly rubbing against my panties, but I try.

"Oh, fuck," I breathe and bit my lower lip. The urge to moan is overwhelming but I don't want to draw attention to us and end the impromptu foreplay. His touch is frustratingly gentle as first, causing a restless want to simmer low and hot between my legs as he plays with me. I rub my foot against his, knocking my leg into his to get him to hurry up or apply more pressure. A quiet whimper does rumble in the back of my throat when Adam's finger rubs circle around my clit and my legs part even more. I'm desperate for more, desperate for him to keep me off in a room full of strangers with nothing but the shadows and music to hide our lust.

He abandons my clit to stroke downwards, pressing hard against my panties, to the spot where I'm become uncomfortably wet.

"What color are you wearing today?" he purrs into my ear and I have to think very hard about the question before my brain can come up with the truth.

"Black," I answer quickly before I'm gasping. The years of being a musician has made Adam wonderfully dexterous and his fingers are pushing the thin, lacy fabric of my panties aside to finger my wet quim efficiently. He finds my clit once more and massages quick, hard circling into the sensitive numb and I'm closing my eyes and I struggle to keep it together. His touch is determined and I pray that he's going to make me come quickly and not leave me high and dry before his performance.

The second song fades into the third, the tempo picking up quickly until the bar is shaking from the overwhelming bass.

"They are almost done," Adam teases as he continues to knead my clit, his eyes boring into my body. "This is their last song."

"Shut up and make me come already then," I sob, ready for an end to the pleasurable torment. His fingers quicken and I suck in a deep breath. My legs are trembling violently now; my body is as tense as a bow. I close my eyes, focusing in the large hand in my lap. His finger slips down again along my slit before pushing up into my body and I eagerly welcome the rough intrusion. His finger fucks me thoroughly, slipping in and out of my wet entrance with short, firm thrust. I grind into his palm, my own hands gripping the edge of the table, legs splayed, as I feel pleasure surging upwards until I am whimpering, my body tightening around his fingers, and I come hard.

I collapse back against the booth, momentarily stupefied by my orgasm. Adam slides his hand from my lap, making a point to suck on his wet fingers when he catches my eye. I flush hotly and bury my face in my hands as he chuckles. Then his hands are under my skirt again but this time he is sliding my panties down my legs. Before I can even think to complain he is stuffing them into his back pocketing and sliding out of the booth.

"You don't need them anymore anyways, love," he whispers to me as kisses my brow. I stare, speechless and blushing, as he straightens up. "Enjoy the show."

I watch him turn and leave, vanishing into the backroom of the bar to get ready for his set. I sit and drink my warm beer, wondering if Adam is genuinely enjoying playing with me or this is punishment for me being late. Either way I'm not sure how I like sitting in a room full of people with no underwear on. While the next set in prepared, I tidy up in the dark, dingy bathroom. When I walk back into the bar, Adam is on the stage, strumming a melody on his guitar and looking so wonderfully dark and brooding with his black leather and wild hair but the image is ruined the moment I remember that he has a pair of my stolen panties stashed away in his pocket. I laugh as quietly as I can and return to my seat to drink away my embarrassment and to enjoy Adam's new music.

It's amazing stuff. He is so secretive with his music that he never lets me listen before he is done with it so I'm like the rest of the audience, captivated and enamored by the melodies he creates. He shares the stage with no one but he holds his own. He plays without interruption, without talking to the crowd, as if we are there to witness the muse take hold of the musician and allow him to manipulate the strings of the wooden instrument in such a way the music is both ethereally beautiful but also deeply sensual.

As I watch couples slowly start to move against one another, I realize that I still desperately want him and make my way towards the back once Adam finishes playing.

He finds me before I can find him, coming up behind me to take my by the elbow. Without saying anything, he pulls me into a vacant office room and slams the door shut with a swift kick. Excitement makes my heart race. Adam doesn't say anything, just stares, still lost in the music whirling around in his mind and possibly the lust he feels, as he bends me over the desk. I go obediently, eager and desperate.

His cool hands skim up my thighs, dragging my skirt up and over my hips. I swallow a moan when I feel his hands ghost over my ass before slipping between my thighs once again. I'm still wet from before and his fingers slip inside my body easily. His low, rugged groan fills the room and then I hear him struggle with his clothes a moment before I feel the head of his cock press against my quim, moving up and down in slow, deliberate strokes just to drive me insane.

"Tell me you want this," he demands, his velvety voice unusually coarse. I moan as I grind against him.

"God, Adam," I sob, my fingers digging into the fake wood of the desk. "Yes!"

His hands are gripping my hips, fingers digging into to bone to hold me still. Then he his ranting his hips forward, pushing his cock deep inside and I whimper. I know Adam has a gentle side but this time neither one of us wants that. Now we just want a good hard fuck to wring us out and exhaust us until we are sated. He is moving quickly and roughly, filling me over and over with such skillful ease that I know I won't be able to last.

My voice is trembling as each thrusts knocks another moan loose. His ragged breathing turns me on even more and I want to finger my clit, to bring my orgasm that much closer with Adam panting in my ear, but the moment I move my hand, his hand clamps down on mine and holds it firmly against the desk. I groan, frustrated, and then he changes the angle and pushes deeper and suddenly I don't even care about touching myself. I just want him to keep fucking me just like that because, damn, I can feel myself about to come again.

"Ah, Adam! Don't stop!" Not that he would. He sounds like he is getting as close to the edge as I am and moves a little faster, his hips snapping forward again and again until I climax, tensing and milking his cock as my muscles squeeze him hard. With one final thrust, he is buried so deep that it hurts so good and moaning low in his throat. His rocks his hips, riding my trembling body until he is completely spent.

He has to help me stand up but even then my head swims and I have to lean against him for support. His arms are instantly around my waist, holding my body against his as he leans against the desk and I am resting heavily against him as I stand in between his long, outstretched legs. I have to wonder in moments like this if he is actually as winded as I am or if he is doing this for my benefit. Either way I like it and snuggle against him, loving every moment he touches me.

"I expect you to give me back my underwear, sir," I tease, straightening away from him when I feel strong enough and brush his messy bangs from his eyes.

He stares a moment, straight-faced, before a smirk toys with the corner of his thin mouth. "Why? Black's my favorite color."


End file.
